The sun was dipping toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the rugged terrain. The temperature, which had been sweltering during the day, was now steadily dropping, and a chill crept into the air.
Oliver was prepared. Anticipating the cold, he had packed extra layers in advance and calmly wrapped himself in them. Chris, on the other hand, didn't seem bothered at all. The cold didn't faze him, thanks to the growing strength in his body bestowed by the blessing of the Goddess of Night. Enola, a night owl by nature, actually welcomed the cool breeze. It invigorated him, sharpening his senses and giving him a boost of energy. But Sandra, delicate and fragile, began to shiver as the night chill set in, her body not built for the cold.
The other students weren't so fortunate. They hadn't considered how the heat of the day would give way to the freezing night. As the temperature dropped, many of them wrapped their arms around themselves, trying to suppress their shivers, their breath now visible in the cool air.
"All right, that's enough for today," the teacher called out. He had been riding in the first carriage but now leapt down with surprising agility, holding a large sack over his shoulder. The students' eyes followed him as he dropped it to the ground with a heavy thud. "This is your food," he announced, pulling out a rectangular slab of something dense and handing one to each student. "Compressed dry rations."
There was a collective silence as each student stared at the hard object they were given. Doubts flickered across their faces. Is this really food?
Oliver studied the object in his hands, tapping it with his fingers. A frown creased his forehead. Curiosity piqued, he pulled out an arrow from his quiver and, with a determined look, aimed the sharp tip at the ration and struck it with force. The sound that followed was a metallic ding, like iron striking iron. He stared in disbelief as the tip of his arrow snapped, yet the ration remained unscathed. Not even a scratch marred its surface.
What is this? A weapon? he mused, perplexed.
He pressed his thumb against the solid block, trying to break a piece off, but it wouldn't budge. His fingers turned red and swollen from the effort, but the ration remained as firm as ever, not even a crumb falling off. Frustration bubbled up inside him.
"Maybe if I soaked it in water..." he murmured, though he wasn't sure even that would work.
Just then, a strange sound caught his attention. he looked over and saw Chris biting into his ration with all his might. His supernatural strength was clearly pushing his body beyond its limits. But as his gums started bleeding, it became apparent that even he had met his match. The ration was simply too tough.
Enola, Sandra, and Oliver exchanged helpless glances, unsure what to do next.
Oliver scratched the back of his head, contemplating. Maybe I'll just stash this thing for later. It's practically indestructible, after all. Who knows? It could make a decent hidden weapon. He had packed some of his own food anyway, having guessed they might run into this kind of problem.
Just as he was considering his options, the teacher spoke up again, walking back to the first carriage. "This ration is edible," he said, his voice firm and unyielding. "But not now. Once we reach our destination, this will become your daily meal."
A murmur of disbelief spread among the students. They turned to him with wide eyes, clearly not convinced. How could anyone survive on something this unyielding?
Oliver, however, wasn't as surprised as the others. He knew what it meant when the Black Crow Chamber of Commerce operated in a city. Wherever they went, prices skyrocketed, and the economy shifted to suit their demands. Bounties might be high, and wealth might flow, but it came at a cost. This ration, tough as steel, was probably a reflection of the scarcity to come. And the fact that they would have to eat this unbreakable block every day sent a shiver down his spine, not from the cold, but from the reality that was slowly unfolding before them.
No one would object to this situation. For the Black Crows, as long as they maintained a steady flow of "goods," they were guaranteed to profit. The adventurers who took on their missions? They earned more gold coins than usual. Sure, prices were climbing, but so were their rewards. And if things got too complicated, they could always move on to another village, hide their identities, and start fresh. Even the merchants benefitted, hiking up prices on everyday items and padding their pockets with the extra coin. Who wouldn't be happy with that arrangement?
Well, Oliver, for one.
He was the kind of person who would never accept such missions. Sure, if it were just an ordinary border town, the silver he earned would have been enough to scrape by. But in his city, where the economy had been twisted by the greed of the Black Crow Chamber, even stale bread that had sat out for days cost a small fortune. Dozens of silver coins, just for bread that tasted like mold.
But it wasn't just the lack of money that made life difficult for him. His refusal to take part in these lucrative, yet morally dubious, missions had made him an outcast. In a world where everyone else was driven by gold, someone like him stood out. People whispered behind his back. Was he too proud to take the easy money? Too self-righteous? Or maybe he was just a fool?
He was none of those things, just someone who couldn't bring himself to profit from others' misery. But in a world of the rich, the poor stand out, and in a world of the poor, the rich stand out. Oliver? He didn't belong to either. He was simply... an outlier.
And outliers don't fare well.
Merchants gave him a hard time. The guild, frustrated by his stance, started removing the more reasonable tasks from the board. Missions that once paid dozens of silver coins disappeared, leaving only the ones that required exhausting travel for meager pay. No matter how early Oliver arrived, the good jobs were always gone, replaced by missions that barely covered the cost of his supplies.
Now, as he held the tough block of ration in his hands, inlaid with dried fruit and other ingredients, he realized it wasn't so bad. Better than the damp, foul-smelling bread he'd had before. He stuck out his tongue and tasted a hint of sweetness as it melted slowly in his mouth.
It's not too bad, really.
While he was lost in thought, the teacher's voice pulled him back to reality. "Do you see that forest?" the teacher asked, pointing toward the dense trees at the edge of the field. "Though this ration is technically edible, let's be honest, I wouldn't eat it unless I had to. So, before the sun sets, I'll allow you to gather food from the forest. Anything that needs cooking will be done after."
The students cheered, throwing the rock-like rations to the ground and rushing toward the forest with newfound excitement. Oliver, however, hesitated, his gaze drifting back to the distant city. He remembered hearing stories, years ago, the soldiers had driven away the dangerous beasts that once roamed these woods. Now, only harmless animals remained. Still, the forest was large, and there was plenty to gather if one knew where to look.
"Coming with us?" Enola's voice broke into his thoughts. He looked up to find his friend smiling at him, the rest of the group watching expectantly.
Oliver smiled back and nodded. "Yeah, let's go."
The five of them walked into the forest together, the cool shadows of the trees wrapping around them as the fading sunlight filtered through the canopy.
"So, what are we hunting for?" Chris asked, cracking his knuckles.
"Rabbits, maybe?" Sandra suggested, surprising the group. They hadn't expected her, of all people, to propose catching small animals. Yet, she was completely serious, her eyes set with determination.
Enola raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do we find rabbits in a forest this big?"
The others turned to Oliver, silently placing their hopes on him.
He scanned the area, thinking quickly. "Let's head this way," he said, pointing toward a section of the forest where the trees were thinner. "But we need to hurry. Once it gets dark, we'll have more than rabbits to worry about."
"Lead the way," Chris said with a grin.
They moved quickly, navigating through the undergrowth with practiced ease. As the sun sank lower, the shadows stretched long and dark, and the forest seemed to come alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant birds.
Before long, chaos erupted back at the edge of the woods. Students emerged from the trees in various states of disarray, their hair tangled with leaves and twigs, their faces smeared with mud. Most of them carried handfuls of inedible plants and stones, looking more like they had just crawled out of a swamp than foraged for food.
The teachers looked on, barely concealing their amusement. One teacher whispered to another, "Should we help them?"
"No, let them learn the hard way," the other replied, smiling. "No harm done."
But then their expressions shifted as Oliver and his group returned, and tied to a branch slung over their shoulders was a large pile of rabbits, neatly caught and ready for cooking.
For a moment, the teachers stared in disbelief. Then, a small smile crept across their faces as they realized that, despite everything, Oliver and his team had managed to succeed where the others had failed.
And in that moment, the outlier, the one who refused to follow the crowd, had found his way, quietly but decisively, just like always.